


Total Drama: Danganronpa

by luckiehawk



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Total Drama World Tour, all ur favs may die, chris is monokuma but human, duncan/gwen/courtney/alejandro love square....oops, im not the best at writing violence so lets hope it's good!, this was based on a series of tiktoks, wow total drama danganronpa au! kinda fun!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckiehawk/pseuds/luckiehawk
Summary: Twenty four students. All the drama. Can it be any less obvious?Duncan Nelson is accepted into the most acclaimed summer camp in all of Canada: Wawanakwa Conservatory for the Gifted Youth. He didn't want to spend time at a crummy camp for kids with stupid talents that would probably all be stuck up, but his mom figured it would be a good way to get him off of the streets and out of the holding cell.But what happens when the murders start?
Relationships: Alejandro Burromuerto/Duncan, Alejandro Burromuerto/Heather, Bridgette/Geoff (Total Drama), Cody Anderson & Noah, Cody Anderson/Sierra, Courtney/Duncan (Total Drama), Duncan/Gwen (Total Drama), Gwen/Trent (Total Drama), Lindsay/Tyler (Total Drama)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 39





	1. Not So Happy Campers

Duncan Nelson.

When teens heard this name, it caused them to cower in fear or step up to the plate and present allyship. He was an infamous teen known for his petty crimes all throughout his small town. He had been to jail (well, the holding cell and juvie) far more times then one could count on two hands. He grew up in a family with child entertainment working parents and a studying lawyer and a police officer as brothers. It was a mystery as to how he even grew up to be sixteen and a master at scaling the wall of the local juvenile detention center. 

So it was no surprise that he gained a cult following after a video of him doing that same stunt went viral. 

Sure, life had changed, but not in the ways he had expected it. There was the obvious popularity, girls and guys fawning after him, everything that came with having fifteen minutes of fame for being a stupid kid in their prime. Towards the end of his freshman year is when the unexpected happened. An invitation to Camp Wawanakwa Conservatory for the Gifted Youth came sealed in a tacky manilla folder. His mom had called him over to the table to get a better look at the spread. Kids posed with musical instruments, playing sports, and looking like something straight out of a cheesy Disney movie his parents would work on. _Disgusting_. However, it wasn't the pamphlet that his mother was advertising to him. It was a letter embroidered with the word 'Congratulations!' written in tacky gold lettering.

"Yeah, there's no fuckin' way I'm goin'," Duncan said, immediately handing the letter back to his mother. "A stupid scholarship to a camp? A conservatory? This is juvie 2.0!" He snarled, laughing at how stupid the words sounded coming out of his mouth. Yeah right, as if he'd be found at a _summer camp._ What did they want him to do? Go canoeing? Play volleyball? Oh, this was rich.

His mother let out a fragile sigh, looking over to him with distaste in her eyes. "Duncan James Nelson, what did I tell you about the language? Darren and Drew never gave me problems as much as you do." She chided. Great, trying to send him off to a summer camp and then comparing him to his 'pristine' older brothers. This was a fun conversation. "I think you should give it a try. It's not every day you get a great opportunity to meet more kids your own age and get to go for free." So his friends were next on the chopping block? Fun. "I think this is a perfect way to keep you out of trouble for a little while! I'm assuming they saw that little video of you because they want you there as the Ultimate Petty Criminal." 

Wait, Ultimate Petty Criminal? A place that was willing to take him in and let him hone his true calling? Now, this was something he could get behind. He took the letter back from his mother and began to read.

"Mr. Duncan Nelson,

We are pleased to invite you to join this year's esteemed group of Ultimates for the summer. We see you meet our following requirements:

  1. Be a present high school student and of age 16.
  2. Present exceptional work in an area of skill or field of curriculum.
  3. Be of legal citizenship in Canada.



The staff of Camp Wawanakwa Conservatory for the Gifted Youth would be over the moon to offer you the spot of the Ultimate Petty Criminal after seeing your astounding work in your talent. We have been keeping an eye on you and your satisfactory in the branch of your talent.

Please respond by 31 May 2020 for a guaranteed spot and a summer of fun.

Yours, Chris McLean; Camp Director and Supervisor."

Who knew this would be the worst decision of his life?

* * *

Now, he sat on a boat with twenty-three other kids. A few of the girls had taken to talking to one another, squealing and fighting to look out of the window of the small vessel that would be taking them to the conservatory. Each of them looked so interesting that it was commonplace to already think of them as the other 'Ultimates' or whatever the stupid name for them was. A few of them were quite obvious. One girl carried around a surfboard and one of the small boys carried a keyboard that was almost bigger than him. It was funny to think he was on the same playing field as people with actual talents besides breaking locks and starting riots.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the person next to him was assumingly trying to get his attention. He had stark blonde hair and wore a pink button-down, a wicker hat, and a puka shell necklace adorning his neck. Wait, wasn't the Ultimate Surfer position already filled by Board Babe over there? Duncan only got more confused when the dude spoke to him. "Hey, dude! Ya seem kinda lonely, figured I'd talk to ya! I'm Geoff." 

Was this kid even from Canada? He sounded like one of those American frat boys in stereotypical college movies he had seen with his friends. The punk could only let out a snort and fall into this kid's little game. What was a little pranking here and there? "I'm Duncan, Ultimate Petty Criminal around here I guess." He said with a snort, turning to face the other fully.

The other guy offered his hand, but in the form of a bro-fist. Yeah, no thanks. "Ah! I'm the Ultimate Event Planner. Nothin' special, but I throw a pretty wicked party down in Vancouver!" He cheered, slapping Duncan on the back. What was his deal with affection? Thankfully, this pulled another dude into the conversation. He was big and burly, a white beanie hanging off of his head.

"Vancouver? No way, I'm from just outside of the city. My Momma settled there after she got here from Jamacia." He beamed, a smile plastered on his face as he fondly spoke of his mother. 'Must be nice,' Duncan thought, still listening to the dude ramble on. His name was Devon, DJ for short, and he was the Ultimate Ribbon Dancer. Pretty lame talent for an overall cool dude.

By the end of his conversation with DJ and Geoff, the boat had pulled into a dock. A shoddy motel stood in full view with a small building off to the side, with a giant sign that read 'Mess Hall.' Yeah, this wasn't the advertisement promised.

Quarrels came from all over before an amplified voice shushed the crowd. "Guys, please be quiet! Welcome to...Camp Wawanakwa! I'm your director, Chris McLean!" 

A tiny girl stomped through the crowd, her platforms hitting the wood of the dock each time with a thud. "So, this obviously isn't Camp Wawanakwa. Can someone send me back? This should be covered in the contract-"

She was cut off by Chris clicking his tongue in a disproving way at her. "Not now, Gwen. Leave it to Courtney to worry about contractual stuff. For now, enjoy yourself! It's a summer camp!"

The girl, or Gwen, stomped back off, grumbling to herself about how she was already miserable. With girls like her around, maybe summer here wouldn't be quite bad. The thought of getting anywhere with the goth was rudely cut off as the campers were dragged to a firepit area that was concentrated in the middle of the camp. Four benches were surrounding a rushed together fire pit for them to sit by. It was still the middle of a hot day, so thank fuck it wasn't actually lit now. Duncan would've ripped through Chris's skull harder than he already wanted to.

"Now, we'll be doing introductions! Keep it brief, name and Ultimate only. You'll have the rest of the summer to get to know one another." Chris said, but something about that didn't sit right with Duncan.

* * *

"Well, I'll start I guess." A brown-haired female said, standing from her place amongst the group. She looked like the preppy girls that always tried to get him in trouble. Great. "I'm Courtney Haywood-Russo. The Ultimate Lawyer. I was a CIT for the last few years, so I should be a good leader among you all."

Attention was then passed to a smaller girl, brown hair pulled into a ponytail and glasses framing her face. "I'm Beth Kanassis! I'm the Ultimate Baton Twirler!" She proudly stated, her hands on her hips. She had a slight lisp, adding to the 'I'm-sorry-but-I-know-you've-been-bullied' vibe that Duncan got from her.

"Heather Mendoza. Ultimate Ballerina." The next girl said, not even bothering to stand up from her spot on the bench. The punk knew her face all too well. They went to elementary school together and then she left once she got big into dance. Kinda sucked he didn't have any stories about being her childhood crush.

The next man stood up, taking everyone's, including Duncan's, breath away. He stood tall among everyone else and had a beautiful Latin complexion. 'Screw him for being attractive,' Duncan thought, tuning into his speech. "I'm Alejandro Burromueto. I'

m the Ultimate Diplomat." He said, flaunting a charming smile.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? Al, right?" Another blonde boy asked.

Alejandro shifted uncomfortably, looking to the male on his left. "I believe it's your turn."

"Hi, I'm Noah Archya, Ultimate Linguist. I'm soo excited to be spending time with you all." He said, all without looking up from the book he was reading. Lame.

The next few people to go were pretty average or he already knew. There was Geoff, the Ultimate Event Planner, DJ, the Ultimate Ribbon Dancer, and even the Ultimate Surfer, Bridgette. From the way Geoff looked at her, he already knew he'd be the classified simp of Wawanakwa. Great. Even the little goth girl from earlier spoke up. Her name was Gwen and she was the Ultimate Traditional Artist.

The last few people's names didn't seem to stick to Duncan's head. The Ultimate Body Builder (Eva), The Ultimate Male Model (Justin), The Ultimate Keyboardist (Cody), The Ultimate Blogger (Sierra), The Ultimate Baker (Owen), The Ultimate Magician (Harold), The Ultimate Actress (Izzy), The Ultimate Philanthropist (LeShawna), The Ultimate Fashionista (Lindsay), The Ultimate Seamstress (Katie), The Ultimate Cheerleader (Sadie), The Ultimate Guitarist (Trent), The Ultimate Sportsman (Tyler), and even the Ultimate Lucky Student (Zeke).

So when it got to him, he froze up, "Oh, hi. I'm Duncan Nelson. Petty criminal. Don't get too close." He said bluntly.

"Okay campers!" Chris directed their attention back to him. "Now please open the handbooks distributed to you and open up the rules."

They each did as he said, booting up the small phones and opening the Rules app.

A stark quiet fell over the crowd as they each read the first rule:

_"To leave the island at the end of the summer, you must kill someone and successfully pass a trial without being figured out."_


	2. Hidden in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Total Drama: Danganronpa: Duncan Nelson found out he was one of 24 accepting into prestigious Wawanakwa Conservatory for Ultimates. Prestigious my butt! The Ultimates find out they’re really there to compete in a killing game for the summer...or maybe even the rest of their lives! Heh heh! Maybe it’ll go good, maybe it’ll go bad! Find out now, on Total Drama...DANGANRONPA!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: death, blood mention, mention of weaponry and strangulation

_"To leave the island at the end of the summer, you must kill someone and successfully pass a trial without being figured out."_

What kind of sick fuckin’ rule was that? There was nothing about killing people advertised to them, otherwise Duncan would’ve stayed far away. He didn’t need that added to his rap sheet.

The group stayed quiet for another few moments before Chris decided to speak up again. “Shocked? Why are you guys so shocked? It’s just a little killing game, never hurt nobody, right?” He said, his cheerful attitude coming off like nails on a chalkboard. What was this sick fucker trying to get at here.

”I’m sorry-“ The brunette girl, Courtney, spoke up from the other side of the fire pit. “My lawyers should have something to say about this. I won’t be participating in this ‘killing game.’” She sneered, an extra emphasis on the words ‘killing game.’ _Man, she was hot._ She began pawing around in her pockets, then at her bag. “Where’s my cell? I need to contact my firm and let them know I’m coming back to work-“

As she and many others began to search for their phones, Duncan included, to only realize they didn’t have them, Chris just sat and watched with an evil grin on his face. “Connection to the outside world is completely cut here. Three grueling months in the wilderness could turn into a lifetime if you don’t participate, ya won’t get to leave.” He said plainly.

”Y-you can’t do this!” Cody said, standing up from where he sitting. His tiny frame barely stood out against the crowd. What about our parents? The police? They’ll be looking for us stat.” His voice was trembling with fear now. “Right?”

“The only person they’ll bother coming for is Duncan, nerd.” This unmistakably came from Heather, who was twirling a lock of dark raven hair around a manicured finger. “We’ll be more than lucky to get out of here alive with a criminal like _him_ among us.” 

Now this made him mad. The delinquent stood up, marching a few steps over to where the ballerina was sitting. He got in her face, not afraid of whoever was watching. “Listen here, doll face. I may be a criminal but I wouldn’t murder anyone. That’s way beneath me.” He sneered, raising a hand to threaten her.

A third voice entered their altercation. “Hey guys, maybe we shouldn’t be-“

”STAY OUT OF OUR FIGHT!” Was screamed from both the punk and the queen bee, and a loud smack was heard.

Duncan had knocked Cody out cold with a single blow. 

* * *

“Is he dead?”

”Not Codykins!”

”Codykins?”

”It’s his nickname, stay out of our love life.”

The group had transferred Cody into the Mess Hall and onto a table to see if he was okay. Yeah, hits from Duncan hurt, but could they really kill? He didn’t even know his own power...and maybe he regretted it a little bit. The punk hung towards the back of the group, Geoff by his side. He was completely distracted by Bridgette, who tended to Cody’s limp body with LeShawna.

”Isn’t she rad?” Geoff asked, pulling Duncan out of his state of uneasiness. He certainly had a habit of doing that. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah dude, I think you guys would be cute.” Duncan said absentmindedly, eyes still trained on the floor. Man, he was being weak.

Geoff’s face lit up in a muted pink against his tan, his eyes still focused on the surfer chick. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help. I was a lifeguard for a little last summer.” He said, body pulling him over to where the blonde was still working to wake Cody up.

He was alone and standing outside of the flock of concerned sheep. It’s what he always was: an outcast. He didn’t think the title would find him...here. Maybe criminal would, but _outcast_ was a different story.

A clicking of boots approached him, quiet chiding coming from a perfect mouth. Alejandro? Yeah, it was him. The Latin man only shook his head at Duncan, the perfect little smirk he wore at all times still shining. “My oh my, Duncan, I thought you’d know better to respect the girls. And hurting someone just after you’re warned about as a threat? Not cool.” He said, a warm yet menacing laugh coming after his statement.

Duncan looked up from his red converse, looking at the guy in front of him with a hard ass glare. Yeah, he was perfect, but damn he was annoying. “So? Dude was perkin’ his nose somewhere it shouldn’t be. What’s your damage?” He spat, not afraid of holding back attitude on this dude.

”My damage?” Alejandro repeated. The way he looked down on the punk made him feel a million times smaller. “I’m the Ultimate Diplomat. Make it known that I keep peace and am the perfect person for it. Maybe I should just be called the Ultimate Perfection.” 

‘He isn’t wrong,’ Duncan thought, immediately snapping himself out of the swooning. Who was he to have a crush on the dude that’s getting his boxers in a twist over nothing?

The diplomat did that weird chuckle thing once again, eyes finally digging into Duncan like his very own pocket knife. Thankfully that was still in his pocket. “Listen here, Duncan. I don’t plan on making friends, I don’t plan on being nice. But if you continue to make things an issue for me, I won’t be afraid to declare myself winner of Chris’s silly little game.”

Was...was he threatening him?

”Guys! Cody’s awake!” Bridgette said, immediately hugging onto Geoff as the rest of the campers, including Alejandro, swarmed toward the recovering boy. This would be fun.

* * *

A few hours had passed since the mess in the dining hall. Dinner was quiet except for Geoff getting a word in about Bridgette and DJ complaining about how he could cook a better dish than whatever the guy in the kitchen had made. And he was probably right. ‘Jail food is better than this shit,’ Duncan thought as he spoon fed himself whatever was being pasted onto the platters.

The cool night had fallen over Wawanakwa. The Mess Hall and public bathrooms closed respectively at 9:00pm, so Courtney and Heather had decided to come up with ‘bonding bonfire time’ every night until curfew at 10. It was stupid, but Duncan had already left a bad first impression on many people, so why not go?

Owen and DJ had taken liberty of making s’mores while Tyler and Eva worked on handling the large fire that roared in front of the group. “You’re so strong, Timothy!” Lindsay gasped, clasping her hands together and swooning. 

“It’s Tyler...” He said, the distraction causing him to drop a log, which was immediately handled by Alejandro’s quick thinking. He placed it carefully in the fire, it lighting up an even more immaculate bronze. 

“Wow! Alejandro! You’re a hero!” The blonde cheered, clapping her hands together. So she knew his name, and not the guy that showed any interest in her. Yikes.

As the fire was ready and the s’mores were handed out, Courtney had gathered everyone to sit in a neat group around the hearth. She sat where Chris once sat to tell them about the killing game, but all Duncan could think about was how pretty she looked against the warmth of the flames. ‘God damnit man, your life is at risk,’ His mind scolded. ‘Worry about pretty girl later.’

She took in a breath, puffing up her chest. “As fitted leader for the group, I believe we should try to figure out who’s behind this. There might be a mastermind, for all we know.” She said, looking around the group. A lanky boy with a book raised a hand. Noah.

”How do we know Chris isn’t just behind it? Wouldn’t it just make sense for him to be the sole puppet master?” He asked, earning a long and detailed explanation from Courtney about how Chris was just probably something small in a bigger scheme.

An orange haired girl that looked as if she had eaten too many s’mores chimed into the conversation. “Oh! Yeah! What if it’s like one of those games where the kids are locked away and they have to defeat another teenager who destroyed the whole world because she was bored!”

”Mastermind, eh?” Another kid screeched. “For all we know, me, Master Zeke, might be the damn mastermind.” His voice was irritating and scratchy. Puberty wasn't being kind to him. “Ezekiel could be the mastermind!”

The group fell silent before Courtney finished the night off with a few ground facts, like how she read through the rules and prepared nameplates for everyone’s personal motel rooms before handing out the keys. Duncan had no interest on going to bed yet, but maybe it was better safe than sorry to sleep.

After saying his goodbyes to the awestruck Geoff and DJ, who looked paler than usual, Duncan headed back to his room. He plopped his duffle-bag on the crappy bed. The walls were wood paneled just like the floor. There was a linen closet, a tiny bathroom, and a window with flowy, white curtains layered over it. Totally not Duncan’s speed, but maybe after a few carvings it would be. 

He kicked off his converse and locked the door, scooting his luggage to the end of the bed. He took off everything that wasn’t to be slept in and hurled it toward the other side of the room. His pocket knife would’ve been in his hands, but he had zero energy to fiddle with the fresh wood around him or carve something into his handbook, which rested carelessly on the dresser with his keys. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad and no one would die, he hoped. Hope. Hope was what he had as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

The night came and went as quickly as the first day passed. Duncan woke up when the chime from the small monitor on the wall alerted him. Chris’s face filled the room with a sinister light. 

“Goooood morning, campers! Let’s see some movement today! The time is 9:00am, so wake up, sunshine! Chef Hatchet has breakfast prepared in the Mess Hall! Go!”

The screen turned off as quickly as it came on. Duncan threw his pillow at it, grumbling as he got out of bed and threw open the bathroom door for a quick shower. After playing around with his floppy hair and getting dressed, he finally stomped out of his room and to the mess hall.

DJ, Geoff, and a few more people sat at the table Duncan normally sat at. He took a seat next to Geoff, who was admirably talking to Bridgette. Props to him for finding the best in a weird situation. DJ didn’t offer any commentary either. He just kept pushing the eggs (if you could call them that) on his plate around. Maybe he missed his mom.

A quick breakfast of talking to Gwen about horror movies, with some interject from the simp who obviously liked her, was just what Duncan needed to kick him into better spirits. He had agreed to meet Gwen, Bridgette, Geoff, and LeShawna on the beach in twenty, so it was a good time to go get his swimsuit.

The group wandered down to the beach, not at all prepared for what they saw next. The jovial chatter stopped as LeShawna stopped in her tracks, mumbling, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ezekiel’s body sat on a beach chair, dried blood coming from his mouth and bloodshot eyes covered by sunglasses. The towel around his neck had looked way too tight for someone to just be relaxing with it on. For someone in the sun, his body was paler than when he was alive.

 _ **Ding, dong, bing, bong!**_ The speakers chimed a gleeful tune. Chris’s voice followed. “A body has been discovered! Please report to the central beach to start the investigation!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh! our first death! in true total drama form, we said goodbye to ezekiel first. who is the killer behind ezekiel’s trip to the beach? who is the mastermind? and why is alejandro so mean? find out next time on total drama: danganronpa!


	3. Elimination Time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Total Drama: Danganronpa: Duncan gets into it with Heather and Cody. Harsh, dude; first impressions matter! We learn Alejandro isn't as perfect as he seems, but yet again, Duncan seems to think so. And another thing, Ezekiel was found dead on the beach. For someone with the title of 'Lucky Camper...' he isn't too lucky. Who was it? Will Duncan get over his crush, and fear for, on Alejandro? Find out now during the first trial of Total Drama: Danganronpa!

The rest of the campers had finally hit the beach. Ezekiel’s body sat there, rotting and slumped over. The murders had started. Duncan had feared this incident, one of his friends failing to make it home from camp. Although he wasn’t the closest to the farm boy, why did he have to die? 

Chris cut through the silence with his megaphone as he pulled up on a golf cart. How...pleasant. “Alright campers! No time to sit and cry! Look at your handbooks! I'm introducing to you...the McLean files! It’s your all access guide to the investigation.”

Each of the kids pulled out their handbooks and opened the app marked with Chris’s face. Of course, the selfish prick had to capitalize on every aspect of this case. It was a kid’s death they were investigating, not a fake murder mystery challenge. Duncan set aside his thoughts and began to shakily read the words adorning his screen:

_ “Ezekiel was found on the beach at 11:30 in the morning. The inflicted wound came from strangulation from the towel on his neck. Whoever set up the murder scene did a hell of a good job to make it look like he was enjoying himself.” _

So he must’ve been killed in the span of time between breakfast and the time that he and the group found him. There was no way he could get pinned as the killer when he had a stable alibi of changing into his bathing suit, right?  Duncan stepped up to begin his investigation. Other people were talking amongst the group, sifting through the sand, and scoping out the area around the body. ' _No one wanted to touch it,'_ he presumed, until he saw who was there: Gwen, working away on what he assumed would be an autopsy. She would touch a part of the body, then continued to sketch out a detailed picture. Sure, it was creepy, but she was taking the most initiative out of them.

The punk approached her, bending down to face her. “Uh, hey Gwen, did you find anything essential to the case or whatever?” He asked, looking down at her sketchbook. a pencil sketch of Ezekiel that looked exactly like him was covered with pink pen ink detailing the places he was bleeding from. 

“A quick glance shows strangulation,” Gwen said, gesturing to the body before them. Of course, Duncan had the image ingrained in his brain by now. “But there was a key piece of evidence we missed. He had to have drank poison before being strangled.”

Poison?

Duncan took in a shallow breath and nodded to the goth girl. She knew her shit. “I’m assuming that’s what the coconut is for?”

Gwen only gave a hum of approval back to him, handing him her journal. “Read over the notes if you want. I learned a lot of shit from Investigation Discovery-“

“Wait, you like true crime? Me too, dude.” Duncan had accidentally interrupted her as he mindlessly looked over the rest of the autopsy. So that’s why he spat up blood.

After a conversation about their mutual love for true crime, Duncan headed off to other areas. He had a quick conversation with Courtney about possible suspects, checked out the body to find a few things, and even helped Geoff with planning a funeral for a minute or two.

Chris sounded off on his bullhorn, wildly flailing his arms around. “Okay, campers! Trial time! Follow the golf cart up the hill, please!”

* * *

Chris led the group about ten minutes away from the beach to a campfire surrounded by 24 trial spaces and a throne made out of wood, adorned with the Wawanakwa emblem and Christmas lights. He told each of them to take a trial stand, save for the one with Ezekiel’s picture at his exact height. A pink cross was etched through the black and white picture of him. C ourtney had gone over this in her discussion of the rules:  _ “A class trial was to happen after every murder and investigation _ .” However, she was a lawyer, Duncan, was not. He didn’t know how to handle these things, especially in the way Chris had set it up for them.

The nonstop debate was about to start. A quick scan of the group showed that there were about three types of people you could sort everyone into: the utterly scared shitless, with Beth, Cody, Bridgette, DJ, and Owen. The nervous without showing it, ala Geoff, himself, Gwen, Noah, Justin, and the two girls who matched everything. Finally, the strange, I-could-have-done-it calm group: Heather, Alejandro, Izzy, Courtney, Eva, and Sierra.

3…

2…

1…

“Begin the debate!” Chris cheered.

It, unceremoniously, started with a briefing of the case by Courtney. “Ezekiel went missing from the mess hall at around 10:30am, while myself, Sierra, Cody, and Beth were behind helping clean up. His whereabouts were unknown until LeShawna and crew discovered him an hour later in his beach tableau.”

Eva immediately pushed into the conversation. “I saw him heading to the beach while i was working out with Izzy. Courtney’s case holds up.”

Courtney nodded curtly at Eva, starting up her conversation of how he died: strangulation with a towel. Duncan snapped his fingers, holding up a finger gun to the lawyer. I’m sorry Princess, but you’re wrong there.” He said, taking in a breath as he realized all eyes were on him. “As pointed out to me by Gwen, the autopsy showed the blood is from the drink that was next to him. there was poison in it...and the time frames show that it entered his mouth before the strangulation occurred.”

Gwen gave him a large smile of approval as the debate carried on. They had gone through alibis, which all of them sounded stable. Then again, Duncan never had done this before. He reminded himself to give Courtney a hug for knowing how to do this while being absolutely calm. The moment they all were dreading came in the form of one name: Alejandro.

“The motive at question hasn’t been revealed yet.” A strange quiet fell over the group. “Does anyone recall the strange tangent Ezekiel went off on last night?”

A few more moments of silence before Cody spoke up. “It was about him being the mastermind, right?”

The diplomat raised his hand, garnering everyone’s attention. “I’d like to challenge something said now. Something seemed off about your alibi, DJ.” He inquired, stroking the small patch of facial hair on his chin. 

“C’mon, brah, DJ wouldn't even hurt a fly.” Geoff said, earning a chaste nod from Bridgette, LeShawna, and Duncan himself. “What’s wrong about him going back to his room?”

“I...I lied guys.” DJ said, his grip on the podium in front of him causing his knuckles to go white. “I didn’t leave the mess hall until after Zeke went.” 

Courtney took a moment to recall before she spoke. “Oh right, you left with-“

Silence.

“You left with Owen’s coconut cup. The same one we found at the scene.”

“So _that’s_ how Mr. Coconut got near Ezekiel! No wonder I was up for trial here, ha ha.” Owen said, a small laugh escaping his lips. ‘Read the room, dude.’ Duncan thought. 

“DJ?” Duncan mumbled, looking across the circle to his friend. His head was down and he quivered with guilt. It made him sick to even look at him, or to even think about DJ commiting a murder. He couldn’t have! He was an outgoing, kind-hearted dude who loved animals, his mom, and wanted to make the word a better place through cooking. _(sounds a little familiar…)_ Ri ght? That was the DJ they knew.

DJ could only stand there silent for a few moments. “I thought...he was the mastermind…I wanted to protect you guys…” Broken words fell from his lips. He wanted to protect them from evil, so he risked his own life.

“Well, you were wrong about Ezekiel being the mastermind, but you were also wrong about protecting them.” Chris sang, pointing a finger towards the blackened. “If you would’ve never gotten found out, you wouldn’t have protected them anyways.”

“What do you mean?” justin asked, still tapping his finger on the trial stand in front of him. He looked bored to be there. Why would he show it when their friend was about to die?

“Oh! I never filled you guys in.” Chris began, propping himself up in his throne. “If the Blackened gets away with their dignity and life, the rest of the committee is executed and they return home, scot-free and about as scared as a reality show contestant, haha.”

Silence once again. Every damn day there was something new and sicker added to these rules.

“Now that we’ve gone over that, I’ll summarize the case in full and the voting. Right on!” Chris’s voice cut through it like a sword puncturing a gut. “Right before the wake up call this morning, DJ slipped Ezekiel a note to meet him at the beach to help set up with a surprise shindig after breakfast. Breakfast passes, blah blah blah, DJ leaves with the intent to frame Owen by using Mr. Coconut as his choice of glassware for the position. Smart move, DJ.”

DJ only slumped into his tears more after what Chris said. Why was he so sadistic?

“So DJ and Ezekiel meet on the beach, Zeke being oblivious to what’s actually about to happen. He’s offered a drink, handed Mr. Coconut, and as soon as the poison hits, gentle giant is in with a towel to choke him! Then he sets up his masterpiece of a crime scene and gets the hell outta there.” Chris ranted, using his hands for extra effect. “Voting starts...now!”

The voting box popped up in front of Duncan, pictures of each of the campers that had to be submitted by parents as their markers. As much as he would regret it, he had to. He had to convict DJ as the murderer. 

* * *

"The votes are in!" Chris said, gesturing to the TV that was next to Chef Hatchet. A casino slot machine lit up on the screen, displaying detailed pixel sprites of each of them. The slot machine continued to roll until one slot stopped. Then another, and another.

 **"DJ REBELLIO HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY"** popped up in large, red letters.

Duncan's face fell. No, no, no, no, no. How could he be found guilty? DJ was nice. DJ was...DJ. He didn't get it. The group kept quiet other than DJ's muffled cries and Chris's wicked laughter. The punk could barely even look at Geoff, who looked like he was gonna throw up. How was their newfound friend just gonna kill someone like that?

A scream was heard. A collar popped out of seemingly nowhere, dragging DJ away from the trial space. This had to be a fucked up dream. It couldn't be real. This wasn't real. The tv had lit up again, but now it was showing what had to be somewhere on Wawanakwa. DJ was sitting on a stage, tears still staining his face. Ribbons bound him to a chair, a crude reminder of his Ultimate. Duncan felt like he was gonna be sick.

Chef was the next thing to enter the stage. He wore a sequined dress, dragging a cart with a drape over it. It took Duncan a moment to process that Chef wasn't there really there anymore. He revealed what was under the tarp: two Boa Constrictors. No. There was no way that they could've heard him say that. He had told Duncan and Geoff that he was afraid of snakes, and now they were in his execution or whatever this sick video was.

The snakes were released around DJ, crawling up on him. The one eventually sunk it's teeth into his neck as the other wrapped around it, slowly and painfully strangling him.

After five painful minutes of watching it, DJ's body keeled over. Duncan had never wished for death more than ever.

The first feelings of despair had found them.

* * *

22 remaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! as promised, i got today's part out! a lot happened in this part so i'm sorry if it's a bit shorter. i hope dj's execution was written well enough- i capitalized on his fear of snakes! that sounded really odd and happy, yikes- anyways- thank you for all of the love on this! you guys are da best :3 expect another part in the upcoming days!


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